


Further Training Required

by JacquelineHyde



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Gen, although one or two were severely annoyed, frederick puts up with a lot, is this what you call crackfic?, no horses were harmed in the writing of this story, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13971939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacquelineHyde/pseuds/JacquelineHyde
Summary: In the hands of a truly skilled tactician, the Wings of Mercy skill can open doors to endless strategic options. In the hands of the other kind, there's usually just a mess to clean up. In which Kiran does something spectacularly stupid, and Alfonse is torn between cheering up his friend, and wondering if they should have done a reference check before asking for her help all those months ago.





	Further Training Required

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so this story kind of came about because I am terrible at video games, and I love writing dumb stories based around weird gameplay mechanics, in this case the way that cavalry units in Heroes are thwarted by trees. Specifically, it's based on the time that I accidentally Wings of Mercy'd poor Frederick into the center of a cluster of trees, then promptly got everyone else killed, leaving him and his horse trapped forever. Brilliant tactician, yo!

When Alfonse happens across the bizarre scene involving some of the Order's allies from the World of Awakening, his first instict is to back away slowly and pretend he saw nothing, because honestly, he doesn't want to know.

He doesn't want to know why Frederick, the most relentlessly even-keeled person he's ever met, is lunging for an unassuming tree, _in the interest of safety_ , brandishing an axe and snarling.

He doesn't want to know why Chrom, who together with Cordelia is attempting to haul the enraged knight away from the tree, is looking decidedly singed around the edges, or why Henry, watching avidly from the safe vantage point of a low-hanging branch of a different tree, has a vaguely hoof-shaped bruise forming over the left side of his cheerfully beaming face.

He doesn't want to know why Kiran is flailing around in panicky circles, or what she means by _those trees aren't the bad trees, Frederick, those trees are nice trees,_ or why the entire thing has Lissa doubled over and breathless with laughter.

Finally, he doesn't want to know why all six of them are dripping wet.

But, as blissful ignorance is never a luxury that he's afforded for long, and he'd really rather just find out right away and get it over with, he catches Kiran by the sleeve on her next lap around the tree.

“I know I'll almost certainly regret asking, but what is happening here?”

“Poor Frederick is not coping very well with what happened up in the Training Tower,” Kiran explains in a low voice.

Before he can give voice to the burning question of what, exactly, that might be, Frederick wrenches free of Chrom and Cordelia's restraining grips and charges at the tree again, ordering it to _pick a god and pray._

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfonse can see Kiran shaking her head.

“Man,” she sighs. “I don't know whether to be terrified or turned on right now.”

“Agreed,” he says under his breath, not altogether certain that the chills he's getting from the intensity of the knight's voice are entirely born of fear. Kiran stares at him, looking equal parts shocked and delighted, so he hurries on before she can comment. “So, what happened in the Training Tower?”

“We had a nasty run-in with some trees,” Henry replies cheerfully from his perch. “And I guess Sir Frederick doesn't want to take any chances down here.”

“Frederick!” Chrom shouts, leaping to his feet, helping Cordelia up, and attempting once again to drag Frederick back from the would-be pile of kindling. “Let the tree live! It isn't the tree's fault!”

And somehow, miraculously, whether because he's calmed just enough to hear the logic in Chrom's words, or simply because following the Ylissean prince's orders is second nature, Frederick obeys with a sigh of acquiescence and allows himself to be dragged back from the tree.

“Of course, milord, you're right. The _tree_ is not to blame.”

He peers darkly at Kiran, accusation so heavy in his glare that Alfonse finds himself squirming guiltily, simply from proximity.

“Hey, come on!” Lissa protests. “Don't blame Kiran, just because she was the one who took us up the tower, and she was the one giving the orders when things went wrong, and it was her orders that made everything worse, and...wow, I guess it really _was_ Kiran's fault!”

“And that is my cue to be anywhere else!” the summoner announces brightly, before bolting.

“Kiran!” Alfonse yelps in protest as she disappears into the trees. With a nervous laugh, he turns back to the group in the clearing. “I should probably go after her.”

Chrom looks up from the task of picking grass and dirt out of his ears from his impromptu scuffle with Frederick.

“That's probably best. When you find her, could you tell her that none of us are angry with her?”

“I could _tell_ her that,” Alfonse agrees dubiously, eyes following Frederick as the knight's mouth tightens grimly at this statement, though he says nothing, and merely stalks off in search of dry clothes for his lord and lady, Cordelia hovering anxiously close behind.

Following his gaze, Chrom huffs an understanding laugh.

“I think he's more embarrassed than anything,” he confides once Frederick is out of earshot. “His dignity kind of took a few hits in there. And I know I'm not angry. If nothing ever went wrong during training, we wouldn't need it, right?”

“And you have to admit, now that no one's drowning or on fire, it was actually pretty funny,” Lissa adds with a snicker.

Henry gives a little wave.

“I thought it was funny at the time.”

Alfonse makes a noise dangerously close to a wail of frustration.

“Will someone please tell me what happened up there?! I know that Commander Anna wrote it into the waiver that what happens in the Training Tower stays in the Training Tower, but I need to know! My imagination is filling in the gaps, and it's _horrifying_.”

Impulsively, Lissa grabs his hands.

“It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen,” she tells him, hushed and reverent, but Chrom interrupts.

“I think you should hear about it from Kiran. We don't blame her, but it did happen under her command, and it feels like gossiping to talk about it when she's not here to defend herself.”

“That's fair,” Alfonse agrees, glancing worriedly in the direction that Kiran went. “I'll ask her about it later.”

Two and a half minutes later, to be precise.

After he leaves Chrom, Lissa, and Henry to catch up with Cordelia and a hopefully calmer Frederick and recover from whatever mysterious ordeal they've all endured, Alfonse fully intends to forget all about it and go about his own training, waiting until a spare moment later this evening to seek out Kiran.

Somehow, though, when he finds the summoner moping in the Order's barracks, hunched into a little ball of self-loathing that he recognizes all too well, it's impossible to walk away, and he sits instead, unfastening his cape and draping it gently over her still-damp shoulders.

“Kiran? Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she shrugs dejectedly, wriggling out of her cloak and pulling the dry garment tighter around her. “I'm not the one who just acquired a shitload of tree-based trauma.”

“So, these trees...” he begins slowly, recalling Chrom's rather crispy appearance. “Were they on fire?”

“Nope,” Kiran sighs. Alfonse waits a moment for her to elaborate, and when she remains silent, he makes another guess.

“Were they filled with bees? Is that why someone nearly drowned, jumping into water to get away from them?”

“No,” she scoffs. “Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have let you watch those cartoons on my phone.”

“Were they made of sharp, spring-loaded objects tipped with poison?”

“Nope.”

“Were they filled with bees  _wielding_  sharp spring-loaded objects tipped with poison?” he tries, with some vague idea about coaxing a smile out of her with the most absurd suggestions he can come up with. 

It doesn't seem to work; she just peers at him strangely.

“Okay, just to clarify, there aren't going to be a whole bunch of fun surprises waiting for me the next time I go into the Training Tower, right?”

“Were they on the verge of becoming sentient and seeking horrific vengeance on all humankind for harvesting their family members to build our homes and towns?”

With an impatient huff, she turns to face him.

“Alfonse, seriously just—wait, _what?”_

He shrugs defensively.

“I worry about that sometimes.”

“You've been talking to Henry, haven't you?”

Rather bewildered by this complete non sequitur, he frowns.

“Well, yes, I just spoke to him a few minutes ago. You were there.”

Kiran looks very much as though she wants to say something, but then seems to think better of it.

“You know what? Never mind. No, these were just your basic, everyday trees. Y'know, that just happened to be growing ninety feet above the ground in a giant tower of death.”

“Then what—“ With a massive amount of effort, he cuts himself off. “You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to. But just so you know, no one is angry with you.”

'They _should_ be,” she sighs. “This is the stupidest thing I've done since the time I got drunk and decided I needed Marmaduke's face tattooed on my lower back.”

Alfonse ponders these words for a long moment before giving up in despair.

“I have absolutely idea what that means, but Kiran, everyone makes poor decisions sometimes!”

“Oh, no, no, _no_ , Alfonse, you misunderstand. This was no mere bad decision. This was a bad decision sharing a night of wild, passionate lovemaking with a terrible confluence of events, and birthing an entire litter of complete disasters, which then merged together to create one great big super-disaster!”

Trying and utterly failing to untangle this statement as well, Alfonse shakes his head with a bewildered laugh.

“Have I told you that every conversation we have is a little bit like looking at an iceberg? I know that I'm only grasping about a tenth of what you're saying, but delving beneath the surface is far too likely to end badly.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” She regards him seriously. “Okay, I'll tell you what happened, but you have to _promise_ not to laugh!”

“I think I can safely promise that,” he says. “I can't imagine finding humour in the misfortune of my friends and allies.”

Kiran leans into his side and gives him a quick, affectionate squeeze.

“Of course you can't. My sweet little cinnamon roll. Okay, so here's what happened. We'd just reached the eighth floor, and I had Lissa stay back with me and everyone else spread out. That's when I noticed the dickhead with a bow zeroing in on poor Cordelia, so I sent her to take cover in the trees. It must have been a good idea, because you know who else had it? Another dickhead with a bow!”

“Oh, dear...”

“Yup! By the time she saw him, it was too late to pull back, and she took a direct hit. She was still hanging on, but just barely. I knew that Chrom and Henry were too far away to get to the dickhead before he could fire again, so I sent Frederick. You know that weird ability he has, where he can get from one end of the battlefield to the other the second one of his allies is in danger?”

“Er, yes, I'm familiar,” Alfonse says, eyes darting guiltily away. He had not, after all, responded with any particular gratitude the first time Frederick appeared at his back without warning during a battle. He'd heard hoof beats behind him, and having just made a mental note that his allies were all positioned very far away indeed, had assumed the source to be a fourth spear-wielding Emblan, and struck without investigating.

Kiran cackles wickedly.

“Right, I remember now.”

He plants his face in both palms and groans in lingering embarrassment. Even months after the incident, he still counts himself lucky to have escaped with his head still attached.

“If you need an example of how everyone does idiotic things from time to time, I can think of no better.”

“Oh, my God, are you still fretting about that?” Kiran demands impatiently. “Everyone thought it was hilarious!”

“Kiran, I back-elbowed an ally off of his horse in the middle of battle!”

“Okay, so everyone _except Frederick_ thought it was hilarious,” she shrugs. “And anyway, look on the bright side. That was one hell of a back-elbow. Frederick was taken completely by surprise!”

“That's probably because he didn't expect the ally he was rescuing from a future as an oversized pincushion to turn on him!”

“Best. Day. Ever,” Kiran insists, still snickering, and Alfonse can only shake his head and wonder what on earth could have happened today to upset her so, when recalling that other disaster prompts only laughter.

“You were telling me what happened today?” he reminds her. “Was Frederick able to take care of the, ah, dickhead with the bow?”

Kiran giggles delightedly and bounces a little in place.

“He sure was, and also, I think you should know that hearing you say _dickhead_ out loud is absolutely magical.”

“...Thanks?”

“So, Frederick took out the bowman in the trees, and Cordelia doubled back and got the one that was coming after her, and Chrom and Henry took out the rest of the enemies. Then I noticed that Frederick wasn't moving – he was just sitting there, on his horse, looking really, really annoyed. And _that_ was when I remembered that the trees I sent Cordelia to hide in were still there – and that sending a guy on a horse into the _middle_ of a bunch of trees with no way out might be a really bad idea.”

Alfonse winces in sympathy for Frederick and his poor, confused horse. This very thing is one of the reasons that he's always shied away from mounted combat: the world behaves far too unpredictably sometimes where horses are concerned. Solid rock wall? Find something to hit it with, and you'll be through in no time. Ankle-high shrub fence? Clearly an impassable obstacle.

But as a thought occurs to him, he frowns.

“Why didn't you just have Cordelia get away from the trees, so Frederick could follow her back out?”

Kiran stabs the air with an emphatic finger.

“See, that, right there, is where this story goes from _Kiran-is-an-idiot_ to _Kiran-is-the-unluckiest-sonofabitch-ever-to-trip-over-her-own-pants._ Almost immediately after the bowman hit her, she automatically healed herself, so she wasn't in enough trouble anymore for Frederick to cross any and all obstacles to get to her.”

“Oh, I didn't know Cordelia could do that,” he comments, impressed.

“Apparently, she taught herself one night while she was bored. She'd already mastered charcoal painting, clog dancing, and the bassoon, so I guess Renewal was the next logical step.”

Alfonse shakes his head helplessly.

“That woman both awes and terrifies me.”

Kiran gives a snort of laughter.

“Yeah, but don't you have that reaction to most women?”

“Fair point. Go on.”

“Right; so now, Frederick is stuck in a bunch of trees with no way out, and Cordelia is flying around in circles, trying to _find_ him a way out, Lissa is hitting the trees over and over with her staff, Henry is giggling his adorable little ass off, and Chrom is asking everyone why Frederick can't just leave his horse behind for now, and go get help.”

Alfonse frowns, considering this.

“And...why couldn't he?”

Kiran rolls her eyes.

“Because apparently, a cavalryman getting off his horse mid-battle is just _not done_ , unless it's to attack. Or be attacked. Or be healed. Or take a bathroom break. Or have a snack. But other than all those times, it's against some kind of unwritten rule that I don't get. Also, none of us knew exactly how your freakish tower of death works, so we were afraid that the whole floor would disappear into the ether and take the horse with it as soon as we left.”

“It's just a tower, Kiran! It doesn't _eat_ people! Or horses.”

She regards him very seriously.

“Are you _sure_ about that, buddy?”

He takes a breath to reply that  _of course_ he's sure that a horse left unattended in the Training Tower will still be there when the owner went back for it, but stops short.

“Hmm. Actually, no.”

“Exactly!” Kiran gloats. “Because it's a _magic_ tower that _magically_ produces _magic_ enemies out of nowhere! I wasn't about to mess around with that!”

“Right,” the prince mutters under his breath, making a mental note to finally take the initiative to find out from Anna exactly how this constant, unquestioned fixture in his life as a member of the Order of Heroes actually _works._ “So, what did you end up doing?”

Kiran curls in on herself with a despairing whimper, wrapping her arms around her knees and hiding her face. Alarmed, he touches her shoulder. “Kiran? What is it?”

She lifts her head and meets his eyes imploringly.

“Okay, you have to understand, by this point, Frederick was _pissed_. Like, he didn't _say_ he was going to kill me in my sleep tonight, but it was pretty heavily implied. So, I kind of panicked and shouted out the first thing I came up with.”

“Which was..?”

“'Hey, I have an idea!'” she quotes her earlier self with the most sarcastic enthusiasm he's ever heard. “'Henry, light Chrom on fire!'”

Alfonse feels his heart drop on behalf of everyone involved, and he wonders briefly how in the name of all things  _Chrom_ isn't angry with her.

“Oh, Kiran...”

“I know, okay?!” she snarls. “I know, it was stupid! It was Marmaduke's face right above my _ass_ levels of stupid!”

He shrugs helplessly.

“I hope you're not waiting for me to disagree with you. Even though I still don't know what a Marmaduke is.”

“I'd offer to show you,” Kiran grumbles, “but I think I've brutalized my own credibility enough for one day. Look, I thought that it would injure Chrom just enough to let Frederick jump to his rescue! And the worst thing is, I think it would have worked, except...” She trails off, thumping her head lightly against the wall behind her.

“Except...?” he prompts, quickly sliding a hand between the wall and her head before she can do herself serious harm.

“Except...as soon as Cordelia saw the flames, _she_ panicked, and pushed Chrom into a lake, because I didn't think to warn her what we were doing, so she thought it was a freak accident.”

As it dawns on him exactly where this is going, Alfonse can only let out a long, slow exhale.

“And so when Frederick jumped to his aid...” he begins.

“...it was right into a fucking lake,” Kiran finishes. “Let me ask you this, Al: have you ever tried to pull a warhorse out of a lake?”

“Ah, no, I generally try to avoid horses where I can,” he admits.

“Well, then stick with me, kid!” she suggests with obviously artificial brightness. “Once word gets out about today, no horse in the world is going to come near _my_ dumb ass!”

Alfonse takes a long moment to consider his words. No stranger to self-recrimination, he tries to conjure up some of the things that Sharena has said in the past to cheer him up.

“I know you feel awful right now, Kiran,” he begins slowly, “and I'm sure most people would. But try to remember that was a simple mistake, and your mistakes don't define you. No one expects you to be perfect all the time, and no one blames you half as much as you blame yourself.”

“Except for Frederick, who's going to kill me in my sleep,” Kiran adds.

“He's not going to kill you in your sleep!” he exclaims, exasperated. “Even if he _is_ still angry by nightfall, which I highly doubt he will be, now that it's over and no one suffered any lasting damage.”

“But what if he _is_ still mad by tonight? _Then_ what do I do?”

“I'm afraid that all you _can_ do is apologize, and learn from today,” Alfonse replies, and sneaks a sidelong glance at her, carefully hiding a smile. “Although, maybe it wouldn't hurt to set up a barrier of trees around your bed for a few nights.”

A few seconds pass, and Kiran stares at him, a joyous light breaking over her face, eyes starry.

“Alfonse...did you just make a _joke_? For _me_? Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you!” She cups his face in both hands, planting a kiss on his forehead. Before he can respond with anything more than an embarrassed mumble, she continues. “That being said, how do you feel about helping me lug some trees inside before bedtime?”

 


End file.
